It's hard to believe that within this gentrified building in Angelino Heights, one of the grisliest, strangest murders in L.A. took place.
This tight-knit family's story reads like a California soap opera -- chock full of intrigue and triumph, tragedy and mystery.
It looked like every other part of the sprawling Elysian Park, but when I finally looked past the people and up to the trees, I began to appreciate the wide variety of specimens be
The building itself appears tired and worn out, and its history has been as jammed packed and traumatic as any melodrama made by the city that it calls home.
On a flat circular board in front of me, the goings on of Ocean Avenue played out like a scene from a fuzzy home video shot in the 1980s.
The history of Yamashiro, a fanciful mish-mash of Japanese, Chinese, and other Asian architectural elements built by two German Jewish brothers, is as odd as its atmosphere.
Today, if the cemetery appears run down and a tad hungover, who can blame it? Its first fifty years were some of the liveliest any cemetery has ever known.
Powerful L.A. men descended on Orange County in a race to develop the coast as the "American Riviera" -- but even their wealth couldn't protect them from failure.